A Moment You Can't Change
by A Thing For Brothers
Summary: Three gunmen enter CalSci, shooting students and teachers. Charlie is there, and tries to help. But what effects will the shootings leave behind? This is a touchy subject, I know. It is only written for the storyline, it's not based on factual events.
1. Panic

**This story is just a quick look into what would happen if there was a school shooting at CalSci, and Don couldn't be there to stop it. I don't own Numb3rs, and don't claim to. It's not mine, this is just my idea for a story.**

**Enjoy the angst!**

Charlie stepped out into the hallway on a late Wednesday afternoon. The sunshine scattered across the hall floor from the open doorway of his office. Students passed by with quiet greetings, and Charlie smiled in return. These details didn't seem important to him, but he never realized that within a few minutes, he'd stop taking little things like that for granted.

Charlie was on his way to his next class when Larry called his name out from behind him.

"Charlie!"

Charlie turned and smiled, already knowing the voice was from his former professor, and, now, best friend, Larry Fleindhart. He watched as the professor came rushing forward, seeming to be flustered by something. Larry's hands were full of papers, papers he was about to drop.

"Larry, what do you need?" Charlie asked with a pleasant smile, only half laughing at his friend's disheveled appearance.

"Charles, I don't know what to do. My aunt called and says she's feeling under the weather and no one is there to help her. She tried to guilt me into coming to tend to her needs, but I told her I couldn't. I have three tests to give out, but now I'm afraid she's really ill and I need to be there to-"

"Larry, Larry! It's okay. I'll give out the tests for you, okay?"

"Oh, would you? I will be eternally indebted to you. Thank you, Charles."

"Hey, don't mention it. Go home. Go take care of your aunt."

"Thank you. Here are the tests." Larry handed over the bundle of papers he had had in his arms. Charlie took them, and smiled. He hoped that he could help Larry out. His friend had done plenty of stuff for him in the past, especially since he'd been doing so much work with his brother Don for the FBI.

Knowing that he couldn't carry all of his papers as well as Larry's, Charlie headed to his office to set down the tests for Larry's classes. He had just set them down when his day got considerably worse.

The first thing he heard was the stomping of feet as students stampeded down the hall past his office. Wondering what the fuss was, Charlie walked to the door to see what was going on. He found terror on the faces of the students who seemed to fly past him. Then the screams came, screams that seemed to echo down the halls. And, as Charlie looked farther down the hallway, he could see the reason for their fear.

A gunman in a black ski mask held a gun in his hand and fired rounds off into the air above him. But soon he changed his target, and started aiming at students. In the distance, Charlie could also hear fires being shot from outside.

His first reaction was fear. Charlie wanted to run, hide. His heart began pumping at an irregular speed. His hands were covered in a layer of sweat. But then Charlie's mind changed tracks. He knew he had to help.

Charlie couldn't hear himself think as he ran across the hall. The sound of gunshots, frightened students, and the racing of his own heart seemed ti fill his ears. The gunman began to get too close for comfort. Charlie entered a side hallway that connected two main hallways, and as he was covered by the wall, a student running behind him was shot. The young woman's body fell forward by the impact of the bullet and her limp form stretched into the hallway Charlie was in. Fearing for the woman, Charlie kept his back against the wall, to try to remain hidden from the gunmen, and quickly bent and searched for a pulse. As he should have expected, he found none.

"Oh, God," Charlie covered his mouth to keep from screaming, so the gunman wouldn't hear. For a moment he stared in shock at the young woman's body. Blood slowly seeped from the bullet hole, which had hit at the back of the girls neck. Charlie couldn't remember seeing so much blood, and he thought he was going to be sick.

He quickly went into a janitor's closet and hunkered down low in a corner. His mind screamed at him to call for help. But, rather than logically calling 9-1-1, he called the only person who he could think of: his brother Don. Don would help. Don would save him. He was his big brother. That's what big brothers do, right? They protect their younger siblings.

"Please, pick up. Please," Charlie was begging, near tears, when someone answered. However, it was not his brother.

"Don Eppes' office. This is Agent Reeves."

"Megan! Where's Don?"

"Charlie, is that you? What's going on?" Megan asked, hearing the fear in her friend's voice.

"I have to talk to Don. Please, put him on!" Charlie clenched and unclenched his fists. Adrenaline was rushing through his body, making his hands shake. He felt the urge to run, run far away, but he couldn't.

"He's not here right now. He's at a crime scene. What's going on, Charlie?"

"Please, please, help, Megan. There's... there's a gunman at CalSci, I think two. At least one student has already been shot. He's still here. Please, help."

Fearing for her friend, Megan got out her cell phone and dialed the three numbers needed.

"Okay, Charlie, I'm calling 9-1-1 right now. You just hang in there, okay? We'll take care of it, all right?"

"If... if I don't make it, please, tell Donny that I love him. Tell Dad, too. Tell everyone."

"Charlie, listen to me. You are not going to die. The police are coming. You're going to be fine."

"I hope so. Hurry, please." Charlie couldn't believe the whimpering tone his voice had become. He didn't feel any better when Megan promised he'd make it out and that she would call Don.

Looking around the small closet space for some form of a weapon, Charlie found a broken broomstick handle and picked it up. Shaking all over, Charlie brought himself to leave the janitor's closet, taking his makeshift weapon with him. If he had been smart, he would have stayed there, waited it out. He would have stayed and kept safe. If he'd been thinking... but he wasn't.

All Charlie knew was that he couldn't just sit by and let his students die. He had to do something to help, like Don would. Planning his course of action as he went, Charlie ran down the hall, toward one of the shooters. He wielded his wooden broomstick handle like a baseball bat, and snuck toward the shooter, trying to go unnoticed. It took all his strength to keep from shouting or crying as he passed dead, or dying students along the way. All he knew was that he had to get to the gunmen, he had to stop him before there were more victims.

When he saw the masked man turn a corner down a hallway, Charlie went the back way. The hall the man was going down was empty, but he made his way toward Charlie. Listening carefully, Charlie tried to judge where the man was and how soon he'd get to him. Charlie kept his broomstick in his hands, holding it like Don had taught him to hold a baseball bat. When he was sure the man was close, he stepped to the edge of the corner, and waited.

The man took one step and Charlie saw the tip of his shoes. With the man's next step, Charlie swung the handle as hard as he could and hit the man in the face, startling and momentarily blinding him as stars danced in front of his eyes. Charlie reached for the gun, and got a hold of it momentarily. Realizing what Charlie was doing, the man pulled back. Charlie fought to aim the gun away from them, but mainly himself. As the two struggled, Charlie got a good kick in, as his foot connected with the man's left shin. Bending, the man went down to the ground, his hand still on the gun. With a hard tug, Charlie got complete control of the gun. And then, in an act that was completely against his way of life, Charlie struck the man against the head with the barrel of the gun. He could have shot him, but he refused.

Standing over the man's limp form, Charlie breathed heavily. His legs shook, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could remain standing. His stomach heaved, and Charlie feared he'd throw up. Before he could turn from the shooter, a single shot rang out. But Charlie didn't even hear it at first. The first thing he noticed was the heat in his right side, just above his hip. He slowly reached down to touch the spot that now began to hurt. When he looked at his hand, it was already covered in red.

Charlie lifted his head and saw the other masked man in the distance, who had shot him with surprisingly good aim. Realizing what he had to do, Charlie stood for a few seconds, and then, he fell forward, not even catching himself when he fell.

His plan was to stay limp, so maybe the shooters would think he was dead. He laid face down on the floor, his hands laying limply at his sides. He kept his eyes lightly closed as he heard footsteps heading toward him. Shaking in fear, he heard the man's steps right by his head. Charlie fought to remain still, limp, so the man wouldn't suspect he was alive.

When Charlie heard another shot go off, he had to hold him breath to keep from screaming. He prayed the shooter hadn't seen his body jerk in reaction to the shot. Then he heard shots in the distance, and realized that there had been three shooters, or maybe the police had arrived.

Quickly the man's feet stepped away. Then there was another stampede of people running toward him, screaming and crying as they ran through the path of the latest victims. Going unnoticed, one man lay, still alive. Because if he moved, he feared he'd surely die.

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Don wasn't expecting the call he got. Megan called to tell him that there was a shooting at CalSci and that the police were on their way. Don's heart stopped beating, and when it started up again, it threatened to pound out of his chest. Before telling Colby where he was going, Don ran to his car and drove to CalSci.

Police cars were already there when Don arrived, and he realized that the shooting was over. He rushed toward the main building, but an officer held him back.

"I'm sorry, sir. No one is allowed past the yellow tape."

"FBI." Don flashed his badge at the man, and, without waiting for a response, he ran past the man and inside the building.

"Charlie!" Don called, disturbing police officers at work. He ran through the halls, looking for some sign of his brother.

_"He's fine. You haven't seen him. He must have gotten out, gone home, run away. He must be safe and sound at home, with Dad..." _Don was telling himself those things when he went through the majority of the building without seeing his brother. But, as if jinxing it, within a minute of thinking that, Don found the head of curls. His heart stopped beating once again.

"No." Don wanted to scream, but all that came out was a whisper. His brother's body lay face down on the floor, a small puddle of blood seeping out of his side, and a body lay beside him. His eyes immediately glazed over with tears as he knelt on the floor by his brother.

"Damn it." He reached out and turned his brother over. He had to blink a few times, to see if his eyes were deceiving him from the tears, because he could have sworn he saw tears on his brother's face.

Charlie had heard the footsteps. He thought for sure he had been found. A gunman had returned, looking for last minute victims. He had seen him breathe, heard his tears. Somehow the man knew he was still alive. He wasn't the actor he thought he was. And so his tears fell faster now, as he waited for the bullet that would end his life.

But then something else happened. The man turned him over and touched his neck. He managed to hold back a flinch, but how could he hide the tears?

Reaching out, Don felt his brother's neck, searching for any sign of a pulse. And, to his surprise and delight, he found one.

"Buddy? Charlie? Can you hear me?"

Slowly Charlie opened his eyes. With his eyes opened to tiny slits, he could barely make out the form of his brother's body, or so he hoped. Taking a risk, he opened his eyes all the way, and found that he was right. It wasn't a gunmen. It was his brother.

"Don!"

Charlie jumped up and into his brother's arms. He latched himself onto Don, gripping him tightly.

"Tell me it's over. Please," Charlie said as he began to cry. He buried his face in his brother's shoulder, hiding from the hell his school had become. Charlie's body began to shake violently as his fear washed over him. Realizing that his brother needed some sort of safeguard, Don held his little brother tightly, trying to support him. Now, Don also let his own tears come. His brother was safe. He wasn't dead.

But he did get shot.

Remembering the blood, Don only gave Charlie a few more seconds of comfort before he pushed his brother back. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

As if the pain decided to return, Charlie winced. He pointed to his side, and lifted his shirt. He hadn't seen the wound, yet, and when he did, he had to look away.

"I need a medic over here!" Don screamed down the hallway, where he saw a group of police officers and EMTs.

"It's okay, Buddy. You'll be all right."

The graze was deep, but it could have been much worse. It was bleeding heavily, but it didn't appear to be life-threatening.

As he caught sight of the nearing EMTs, Charlie reached out for his brother's hand.

"You're okay," Don reassured his brother again. Charlie gave his brother one last pleading look before the EMTs swarmed in.

Still holding to his brother's hand, Don squeezed tightly. Charlie was okay. Nothing worse than a bullet wound. Nothing fatal. Charlie would be okay. He'd survive.

Don told himself these things, but then he remembered how Charlie had gotten there. A school shooting wasn't something you got over in a day. Don remembered the case he had worked over a year ago. The students had all been shaken, fragile, scared. Though his brother was older, how could Don expect Charlie to be so different? Charlie had been a victim of the three shooters. He had gone so far that he had faked his death, just to keep from being victimized again. That wasn't something to take lightly, and it definitely wasn't something that Charlie would recover from right away.

So for now, Don contented himself to just holding his brother's hand. He would be there for Charlie, as long as his brother needed him.

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By the next morning Charlie was back at home. The bullet had passed clean through without hitting any vital organs or arteries. After being stitched and patched up, he was able to go home the next morning, after spending the night for observation. Alan had come to him immediately, demanding Don to tell him what was going on and if Charlie was okay. He didn't stop bothering Don until he saw Charlie for himself.

And now all three Eppes men were at Charlie's house, moving around in silence. Charlie was upstairs in his room, trying to get some sleep after a restless night. The doctor had suggested sleeping pills, especially after such a traumatizing experience. However, Charlie remained adamant about not taking sleeping pills.

Don and Alan were in the living room, quietly letting their own thoughts take over, rather than making pleasant conversation. Don knew he had to get to work soon. He was thinking about how to work his schedule around Charlie. He wanted to be able to comfort his brother, and support Charlie if he needed it. So he would have Megan cover for him later this evening, and just call if anything happened and he was needed. He couldn't leave Charlie all day. But he couldn't ignore his job. So where was the comfortable line between right and wrong, where there seemed to be a perfect medium?

Alan wondered how his sons seemed to enter this world of guns and violence. Why couldn't they just go back to that young age where their world was still protected from everything else? He wished they could back before the dangers of adulthood broke them down. Before the outside universe got in, before it ever even touched them. Maybe then he could protect them from this present hour. But Alan truly doubted it.

Upstairs, in the darkened area under the covers, Charlie's mind whirled. He felt as though he were back on the floor at CalSci, faking death to prevent that same thing. He could hear his heart beat, so what was to stop the gunmen from hearing it, too? Charlie tried to stop breathing, afraid that the rise and fall of each breath would alert the gunmen to his living form. All he could do was remain limp, as still as possible. As he heard the footsteps approaching, he felt the urge to run. But running would mean death. And death was not an option, when there was still life to live.

Stomp, stomp. The footsteps came closer, until they stopped. Charlie wondered is the gunmen was gone, but he could feel his presence linger. He wanted to look up, but he knew he couldn't. For then he'd know for sure that he's alive.

In a moment that seemed too torturous to be real, a hand reached out and touched him. The adrenaline rushed. He couldn't ignore it now. He turned, and screamed.

Chest heaving with every strangled breath, Charlie stared up at his brother. The fear remained, but he recognized Don, and he knew he was safe. But that was not how he felt.

"Whoa, whoa!" Don said loudly, holding both hands up, showing he was not a threat. He looked at his little brother, seeing the fear written there. He was just coming up to say he was about to leave for work. But it's obvious he wouldn't be leaving for a while.

Don eased onto Charlie's bed. Charlie swallowed hard, his breathing beginning to slow. He pushed at the covers that stretched across his body, leaving him feeling exposed to the world. Tentatively, he changed his mind and reached out to grab his comforter and covered up. He waited for Don to say something, knowing there were questions on his brother's mind.

"Charlie? Buddy, are you all right?" Don asked when he finally felt Charlie was calm enough. Charlie looked away, feeling weak and scared.

"It's okay, Buddy. I'm here," Don said, touching his brother's hand. Charlie flinched, but allowed the touch this time. He still wouldn't look at his brother, but he began to open up.

"It just seemed to happen. Students went running by my office. I heard their screams, and then the gunshots. I wanted to know what was going on, so I stepped out. It seemed like everything sped up. I crossed the hallway and a student behind me got shot and killed. I watched her die. I... I went into a closet and hid while I tried to call you. I couldn't think of anyone else to call, not even 9-1-1. And then I knew that if you weren't coming right away, I had to do something." Charlie chuckled, lacking humor in his voice. Don watched, trying to understand what Charlie had gone through. He didn't want to speak, for fear that Charlie would stop talking.

"I... I wanted to help. I wanted to be more like you. So I hit one of them with a broomstick handle. I managed to knock him out, but then there was another. When he shot me, I just went limp. I had to stop, look dead. And then I heard everyone. They screamed. People died by me. Their faces... they're everywhere. I didn't help. I should have done more, but I didn't. I just became a stupid, useless coward when I faked being dead. I should have fought harder. But I didn't."

Charlie began shaking and he clenched his fists in front of him as he brought his knees up to his chest. He bent his head down, hiding his face in his knees. He shook, the fear still their, the faces of his dead students were there. And always, always the face of the gunmen seemed to stare at him. He should have fought harder. But he didn't.

"No... no, Charlie. You did the right thing. You were so brave. You know, I don't know if I could have done what you did. It took a lot of guts. I fight, but I have a gun in my hands. You had a broomstick handle." Don chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But it was obvious his brother didn't feel the same way about it.

"Charlie, if you hadn't done what you did, you'd probably be dead right now. You can't blame yourself for living. You did what you had to do to survive. And I'm proud of you for what you did."

For a moment Charlie raised his head and looked at his brother. He didn't bother trying to hide the tears that wet his cheeks. "Really?" he asked quietly.

Don smiled before his brother bent his head again. "Really."

Charlie nodded, lowering his face to his knees again. Soon Don could hear the quiet sobs coming from his brother. Briefly Don just sat, letting his brother cry. But Don soon realized that he should do more than that. He moved on the bed so that he was sitting beside his brother. Wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulder, he left it there as Charlie cried. Then Charlie looked up at Don, misery shining in his eyes. Don just looked back, then took his brother fully in his arms, holding him tightly. Charlie sobbed out his fears, leaning on his brother for the support he needed to fully recover. Only then could he move on.

**Hey, guys! Sorry it's been forever since I've posted anything. School is a mess. I'm ready for it to be over. There is another chapter to this about when Charlie finds out about the gunmen and who they were. That sorta thing. So, be on the lookout for that, but not too soon. I doubt it'll coming soon, though. Sorry! I'll see you later, though. Reviews are highly welcomed! Thanks!**


	2. Uncertainty

Larry couldn't believe it. If he had stuck around for his class, he could have died. He could have been a victim in the awful shooting at CalSci. But he had been gone. He wondered why he was fortunate and Charlie had suffered while he walked up the steps to the Eppes home with Megan Reeves at his side.

Megan had decided it would be a good idea to have Larry come along when she broke the news about the identities of the shooters were. She had talked to Larry about the students, and Larry had confirmed her fears: Charlie knew them. He was the teacher of two of the young men, Andrew Kennedy and Jeremy Roberts. The other, he hadn't known. The one that Charlie hit was the one that he hadn't known, Marcus Reynolds. Jeremy was the one who had shot Charlie. He was in Charlie's applied mathematics class. Megan figured that maybe Larry to provide some emotional comfort if he was there when she broke the news to Charlie, since Larry knew of the students.

Charlie was down stairs after his nightmare. Don had decided to stay until after his lunch break. He would only be coming in a few hours late, and it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. He spent years without taking more than a day off. He had nothing to feel guilty about by staying with his brother.

Don was glad he decided to stay when he got a call from Megan that she was coming over to talk about the shooters with Charlie. His brother had yet to give his statement, and Don had a feeling that Charlie knew who the shooters were. Don would stay to make sure his brother was okay, if nothing else.

Megan knocked gently on the door and waited for Don to come. She wasn't sure if Don had told Charlie what was about to happen or not, and when she saw the worry on his face, she assumed he hadn't.

"Come on in," Don said, trying to keep emotions out of his voice. However, by doing that, Megan could see what his true feelings were.

Charlie was sitting on the couch when Megan and Larry came in. He looked up and forced a smile, but when he saw the seriousness on Megan and Larry's faces, he feared the worst.

"Hi, Charlie. Mind if we talk for a while?" Megan asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"No. What's going on?"

Megan and Larry sat in the seats facing the couch. Don stood beside the couch, looking over everyone.

"I need to get your statement about the shootings."

"Wouldn't that usually be LAPD's job?"

"I thought it would be best if you gave it to someone on Don's team."

"Why?" Charlie looked fearfully from Don to Megan.

"Charles, they identified the shooters," Larry put in, unsure of how much more he could say.

"And? Who were they? What happened to them?"

"One was named Marcus Reynolds; he was the one you struck. But, Charlie, two of them were your students. Jeremy Roberts and Andrew Kennedy... They died."

"W-what?" Charlie stuttered, as he stood in shock.

"All three didn't make it. Two were already dead when the police arrived, and the last shot himself before LAPD could disarm him. I'm sorry, Charlie."

Charlie nervously paced back and forth in front of the couch. He covered his mouth with his hand as he paced. He tried to fight off tears, and his breathing became rushed.

"Why? Why would they do something like that?"

"Charles, take a deep breath. I know this is overwhelming."

"Do you?" Charlie snapped as he paused momentarily in his pacing.

"Point taken," Larry said, defeated.

"Charlie, I reviewed their history. They showed signs of suicidal behavior. LAPD searched the boys' computers and found emails about their plot. They were planning the shooting, and would make sure they all didn't survive. It was their way of committing suicide."

"But why? Why? Why didn't they come to me? I-I-I could have helped them! I could have made things better. If they needed good grades, I would have given it to them. They were good students!"

"Sometimes we never really know the reasons why, Charlie. Schoolwork can be very stressful, but there could have been so many other factors, as well."

Charlie couldn't listen to Megan. He paced, thinking back to the students. Should he have noticed something was wrong? Did he overlook something? Why hadn't he done something before?

"Charlie, sit down." Don moved toward his brother, prepared to lead him back to the couch.

"Don't touch me," Charlie growled, stepping away from his brother, his hands in front of him defensively. Don held his hands out and backed up.

Megan took out a notepad. "Charlie, how long did you know Andrew and Jeremy?"

"They... they took their first class with me last year. They were both in a seminar about game theory. Then they took applied mathematics with me this semester. Damn it, how could I have been so blind?"

Megan frowned, seeing how much Charlie was putting on himself. "Charlie, this wasn't your fault. You can't save the world."

"But I didn't even try!"

Megan sighed. Charlie wasn't being reasonable, and she wouldn't fight him. Not yet. "How were you in contact with them during the shooting?"

"Um, I hit Marcus, right? And then, one... one of them came from the other end of the hall and... my God, he shot me! One of my students shot me!"

Charlie doubled over, holding his knees. He wasn't getting enough blood to his head. He breathed in deeply. Soon he felt strong arms around his waist, keeping him up. Charlie closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. Voices called out to him, but he couldn't make out the words. Megan came over and placed a cool, wet paper towel against his face moments later. Charlie leaned heavily into it, and he was led to the couch soon. He sat for a moment, eyes still closed. When he opened them, he found three pairs of eyes focusing on him.

"Buddy, are you all right?" Don asked, kneeling in front of Charlie so that they were level with each other.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Sorry about that."

"Don't be." Megan smiled. Larry sighed with relief, thankful that his friend was okay.

Charlie leaned forward and put his face in his hands. Don sat beside his brother on the couch, rubbing Charlie's back soothingly. Megan sat back down and waited, giving Charlie time to compose himself. When he did, she continued the questioning.

"What did the one that shot you look like?"

"He... he was tall, I couldn't see his face. It... it was Andrew. Yeah. Andrew is taller than Jeremy. It definitely wasn't Jeremy."

"Okay, good. I think that's all for now. Thank you, Charlie," Megan said a few minutes later. Though basic questions, Charlie felt drained. Reliving a nightmare wasn't the best thing in the world.

"Thanks, Megan." Don walked her to the door, leaving Charlie and Larry a moment together. He wanted to talk to her about Charlie.

"How'd he seem to you?" Don asked when they reached the front porch.

"Traumatized. I mean, he went through hell, Don. He's going to be okay, though. He's a fighter, like you."

Don smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. If there's anything I can do, just give me a call."

"I will. I'll see you in a few hours, okay?"

"Okay. See you." Megan smiled and waved as she walked to her car. Larry said good bye as he walked past Don. Worrying about his brother, Don turned around and went back inside. He was even more concerned when he found that there were tears on his brother's face.

"What's the matter, Buddy? Are you hurt?"

Charlie shook his head. There were so many things he should have been, but he wasn't.

"What is it then?" Don asked as he sat beside his brother. Again, Charlie stood and paced in front of the couch.

"Why did I walk away from that shooting? So many of them didn't make it. I-I saw them, Don. I saw their faces as they... they just laid there. They stared, but saw nothing. They bled, dying. But they couldn't move. They couldn't be helped. They just laid there and died. Young kids, Don. Some of them only 18. And, I... I made it. I lived. Why should I be so lucky?"

Charlie covered his face with his hands as he paced. He couldn't take it. It wasn't fair. Why was he still alive? His students had just died. They still had so much life in them. How could they just end it?

"Charlie, sit down. You're going to hurt yourself," Don suggested calmly, reaching out to touch his brother's shoulder.

His eyes still covered by his hands, Charlie jumped away from his brother, tripping on a leg of the coffee table. Don reached out to catch him, and managed to lessen the blow of his brother's fall.

Charlie lay on the floor, crying. He held his injured side, breathing heavily. Don dropped down beside him, concern taking over.

"Charlie! Buddy, are you okay?"

Charlie sat up, looking at his brother. "Why did this happen to me, Don? Why me?"

Don's heart hurt for his little brother. He didn't know. "I don't know, Buddy."

Charlie leaned his head miserably on the top of the coffee table. Don reached out gently and moved his brother into his arms. Charlie sank into his brother's chest, letting Don's shirt absorb his tears. Don held his brother and comfortingly shushed him.

Charlie wasn't sure how he was going to recover from this. He wanted it to be soon, thought it would be, but it was a lot harder when it happened to you.

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The day Charlie feared came. It was the weekend before CalSci was to reopen after a week long break for the 21 students and faculty lost in the shooting. Don thought it would be best if he saw the campus again before classes resumed. That way it would be more private. Though Charlie agreed that would be better, he was still terrified of going back to CalSci. It would never be the same.

Don pulled up to the school and parked his large SUV. Charlie just sat in the passenger's seat. He wasn't sure he could move if he had to.

"Come on, Buddy. Let's go inside."

Don opened Charlie's door for him, taking his brother outside to walk to the main campus building. Since this was not where the shooting took place, Charlie felt okay. Don walked beside him as they walked through the hallway. The place had been cleared of any signs of the previous week's troubles. All glass was replaced and the carpet was new. He could sense what had gone on, but he tried to block it out of his mind.

Then came the hard part. The space between buildings seemed miles long. But as Charlie took the first few steps, the space closed in and he was already at the door to the math and science department building. How could he open the door?

The question was answered when Don reached forward and opened the door for his brother. He placed a protective hand on his brother's shoulder, pushing him forward. Tentatively, Charlie took the first steps inside, and the screams began in his head. He could hear their voices, fear-filled as the shots fired. Charlie stopped and shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't stop it. There voices took over his head. He opened his mouth to breathe, since it seemed very difficult to breathe through his nose. But opening his mouth didn't help either.

Don watched his brother's reaction. When Charlie closed his eyes, he came back to his side. He spoke to his little brother, but Charlie obviously wasn't hearing him. When Charlie stopped breathing, Don grabbed his brother's arm, shaking him back to reality.

Charlie opened his eyes and he breathed again. Catching his breath, he turned and looked at his brother. Don was watching him intensely, searching for signs of his true turmoil.

"I'm okay."

Don watched another moment, then nodded, as he saw the confirmation in his brother's eyes. Together, the brothers took each step one at a time. Charlie couldn't hear his brother still, for instead of having visions in math, flashes of the school shooting flared everywhere he looked. But he managed somehow to walk down the hallway. It wasn't until he got just outside his office that he began to lose it.

Looking at the corner of where the hallway he was in and another one connected, Charlie saw the young woman, shot down in front of him. He saw her bleed, eyes staring up at nothing. He heard the shot, knew they were coming for him. Blood splattered onto his face, as his colleagues and students were shot down all around him. Charlie turned, ready to run away.

But Don caught him. He had seen the fear-filled look in his brother's eyes. He had seen the reaction to just one simple area. It meant nothing to him, but to Charlie, it meant fear. But his brother had to get through this. He couldn't turn and leave now. They were almost done. Don grabbed onto Charlie's upper arms, holding him back.

"No! No, let me go, Don!" Charlie fought. He couldn't take it. He had to get out.

"Charlie, you have to do this! You have to!"

"NO!" Charlie pushed, barely escaping his brother's hold. Don quickly grabbed him again, and Charlie moved to hit his brother. But Don was faster. He held onto his brother firmly, and moved him so that Charlie was pinned against the wall. He couldn't let his brother run away from this. He had to face it, or he'd never recover.

"No, Don. No!" Charlie cried, pushing at his brother's hands, hands so strong that held him in place.

"Charlie, look at me. Look at me!" Don shouted loudly, forcing his brother to finally look at him once more.

When Charlie finally made eye contact, Don continued. "You have to do this, Charlie. You have to. Okay? We'll get through this. Together. I'm here, Buddy. Just lean on me, okay? I'm right here."

This time, Charlie gripped his brother's hand. He held it tightly as he fought off tears, looking into his older brother's face.

"Don't leave me," Charlie whispered fearfully.

"I won't, Buddy."

"Don't go... please."

Don cupped his brother's left cheek with his hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Buddy. I promise."

Charlie stared into his brother's eyes, trying to see if there was truth there. Seeing that there was, Charlie nodded. "Okay."

He took a deep breath and stepped away from the wall. Charlie's legs shook beneath him, but he managed to walk on. He had to close his eyes as he passed the blood-stain that lingered where the young woman's body had lain. Walking through the hallway, he came to the last one he had been in... the one where he, too, had lay bleeding.

Charlie stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at the space he had laid days before. The fear returned, and he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. It was where the man who had shot him came from. He wasn't sure how he was going to look down that hallway without seeing him, feeling like he had to fake death to stay alive.

He wasn't sure how he was going to still teach at CalSci.

**Remember this story? LOL Sorry it's been forever! I wouldn't have taken so long if it hadn't been for school. Next week is finals' week. Ah! Wish me luck! I have the whole month of December off, so I'll try to make more time for stories, and probably will start my next long story. There's still one more chapter left, so if there's something you haven't seen yet and would like to, leave it in a review or message! Thanks!**


	3. Closure

Charlie had managed to survive the first week back at CalSci. The memorial for the twenty-one students and faculty lost almost killed him. He stood strong, though, trying to be brave for the students who survived. It was the least he could do.

It was his second week back when something inside him snapped. Worried about him, Larry called Don to come see Charlie.

Hearing the urgency in Larry's voice, Don hurried to CalSci. When he arrived, he was met immediately by Larry Fleindhart.

"Larry! What's going on? Where's Charlie?"

"He...he was in his office, but he left. Don, he's on the roof of the science building."

Taking off at a run, Don hurried to the science building. He didn't bother to look up when he made it to the front of the building, just went inside and took the stairs two, sometimes three, at a time. Reaching the top, he stopped suddenly when he got out on the roof and found his little brother standing on the edge.

"Charlie! Buddy, what are you doing?" Don asked calmly. He didn't want to scare his brother.

"I know why they did it, Don. They wanted to be remembered. People don't remember you if you're the quiet kid, who no one likes. People forget you if you never stood out in the first place. Everyone deserves to be remembered, right, Don?"

"Sure, sure, Buddy. Why don't we talk about this in your office?"

"No, Don!"

"Okay. Okay, we'll talk here." Don took a step back, so not to appear threatening.

Charlie turned back to staring down at the small people below. He could understand not wanting to be forgotten. If he had committed suicide when he was younger, no one would have remembered him either.

"It doesn't seem right that they should be forgotten. SO they decided to be remembered the only way they knew how. Even if it was the wrong way, Don, they still will be remembered now."

"Buddy, why are we talking about this? Please, come down." Don had been trained to deal with these situations, but it changed entirely when it was his brother. The book was thrown out the window, and he was ready to beg if he needed to.

"I understand, Don. I know what it feels like to want to let go. It would be so much easier, you know?"

Don gasped as Charlie's foot took a dangerous step closer to the edge. Covering his mouth with his hand, he started to cry. "Please, Buddy. Don't."

"It seems like it should be so simple, you know? Just one step and you're gone. That's all it takes, really. But they had to be more complicated, because people only remember for a short while someone who jumped off a building. I'd want to be remembered. I want my death to mean something."

Don took a cautious step forward, coming ever so closer to his brother. He couldn't let his brother go without trying to stop him. He had to bring him back to safety. Just a couple steps would do the trick.

Flinching dangerously away as Don came closer, Charlie turned to his brother. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just come over here. Step away from the edge, Buddy. Please."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything."

Don frowned, confused. He hoped it was true, but if it was, why were they up there?

"I just wish I had helped them more, you know? Maybe if I had talked to them more, paid more attention to them. Maybe then they wouldn't be dead. Maybe then 21 students and faculty members wouldn't be dead either." Subconsciously, Charlie rubbed the spot where he'd been shot. Guilt still gnawed at him over the fact that he had survived, leaving with just a gunshot wound, when so many others had lost their lives. He didn't understand the logic in that.

"Buddy, you can't put this on yourself. You had no way of knowing they were suicidal. You're only one man, Charlie. Remember that. You can't fix all the world's problems."

"But I didn't even try!"

Don slowly stepped toward his brother. "Buddy, listen to me. You are not responsible for their deaths, or for the deaths of the people they killed. And you are certainly don't deserve to be punished because you survived. Hell, Charlie, you should be happy! You survived, Buddy. No one can blame you for that."

Standing behind his brother, Don grasped Charlie's shoulders. Charlie stood there silently for a moment as he took his brother's words in. It was true that he shouldn't be blamed, but he still felt guilty. Why him? Why did he survive when so many others hadn't? What made him so special?

"Come on, Buddy. Let's go home."

Charlie backed up, bumping into his brother. He turned and looked up at his brother with tear-filled eyes. Other people may not remember him if he was gone, but he knew one person would for sure: his big brother.

Don smiled in spite of the tears in his own eyes. He was so relieved that his brother had finally stopped. Charlie stepped back onto the main landing and hugged his brother. "Thanks, Don."

Sighing with relief, Don hugged his little buddy back. Charlie was safe. That was all that mattered.

With a protective arm across Charlie's shoulders, Don walked with his brother down the stairs and outside to his car. He had Larry cover for Charlie's remaining class, and the two headed home. That's where they needed to be.

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"I was so scared, Dad. I thought for sure I was about to lose him. He looked so... detached. I thought he was really going to do it."

Alan shook his head. He found it hard to believe what had happened wit his sons. He was so glad Charlie was safe. He worried, though, about why Charlie had done it.

"Where's Charlie now?" Alan asked, looking around Don at the kitchen table, to the living room.

"He's upstairs. I wanted him to get some sleep. He looked worn out."

"Yeah, he hasn't slept well since the shooting."

"Really? Why not?"

"Don, he got shot at. I know you don't think twice about it, but this is Charlie we're talking about."

"All right, all right. I'm just saying."

Alan sighed. "I know, Donny. Why don't you go check on him?"

"Okay." Don stood from the table, trying to shake the fear of losing his brother. He figured the best way to calm his fear was to go see his little brother.

Don quietly opened the door enough for him to stick his head in to see if Charlie was sleeping. He didn't want to bother his brother, but when he saw that his brother was sleeping fitfully, he stepped inside.

Sweat left trails on Charlie's face as he trembled under the covers. Groaning, Charlie fought the covers on him. Don sat down beside his brother, looking down at him worriedly.

Charlie was dreaming of his death, surprised to find it was a suicide. He was standing on the edge of a bridge, while staring down at the ground below. He fought, trying to back up, but as he tried to back up, he moved forward. His heart raced at the idea of stepping off. Sure, it would be so much simpler if he did, but he wasn't ready to die. Charlie would endure life's sufferings. He didn't want to die yet.

Trying to hold on to the bridge's railing, Charlie reached out for something to hold onto. In reality, he had grabbed his brother's arm. He clung to the railing with both hands, tighter than he ever had, and Don quietly winced. Even though he fought to stay up, Charlie's body betrayed him and took a step, a step that took him over the edge.

Heart pumping out of his chest, Charlie watched with horror as the ground came up to meet him faster than he'd expected. Upon impact, he opened his eyes.

Shooting up in bed, Charlie woke up. His breath came fast as he looked around, making sure it really had been just a dream. He found his railing sitting beside him.

"Buddy, calm down," Don soothed as he grabbed his brother by the shoulders. Shaking, Charlie reached up and grasped Don's forearms. Gulping in each breath, Charlie focused on his brother's form. Falling forward, he fell into his older brother's arms and began to cry.

"Sh. It's okay, Buddy. I'm right here. I've got you." Don held his brother tightly. Charlie pressed his face into Don's chest, his tears wetting the front of Don's button-down shirt.

"I don't want to die, Don. I don't want to die!"

Don closed his eyes in relief. He hadn't been sure what to think since he had found his brother on the roof of the science building at CalSci. Now he knew for sure his brother hadn't been suicidal. Sometimes it was hard for Don to understand how his brother's mind worked.

"It's okay, Buddy. You're not going to die. Not on my watch."

Charlie sniffled, giving a small smile at his brother's statement.

Pushing out of his brother's arms, Charlie ran a hand under his eyes, wiping away the tears. "Thanks, Don."

Don smiled in reply, glad to be there for his brother.

"I... I think I'm okay now."

"You are?" Don asked, wondering what had changed.

"Before, I... I didn't think I deserved to survive the shooting. I didn't understand it. But I don't want to die. I want to live."

Don smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that, Buddy."

He hugged Charlie, thankful that he had his brother back again, for a moment you can't change can't be undone. You just have to learn to live with the outcomes.

**Hey, guys! I am officially free from school for a month. Yay! Sorry it still took a while to update. I've still been busy, surprisingly. I hope you all enjoyed this story. I need to find a medical beta for my next long story. If anyone is willing to do that for me, or knows of one who might, let me know. 'TIl next time, see you later!**


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